


Hot Off The Press

by disarmed



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Current Affairs with Natasha & Steve, Explicit Language, M/M, Newsroom!AU, Thor: the resident Meteorologist, and Clint the reluctant Sportscaster, bff!Pepper/Tony, featuring: Tony the Stock Reporter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmed/pseuds/disarmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Anthony Stark, resident stock reporter at NBC's Channel Six News. Suave, smart and handsome to boot, Tony is constantly throwing the station into chaos with his uncanny ability to completely ignore the material he's given each night and to use his own improvisations. The crew at the station think they have enough trouble with just Tony, but with the rumour of Loki Odinson's return (younger brother to Thor, their resident meteorologist and whose father owns the station itself) they're in for a bit of a surprise; Tony more than most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> also known as the Newsroom!AU, this came to me after seeing a post on tumblr months ago where the Avengers were re-cast as part of a news channel. and really, who doesn't love the idea of ~steve covering current affairs?

'Stark!'

'Yes, dear?'

Director Nick Fury regards resident stock reporter Tony Stark with a contemptuous glare.

'Can you read?'

Tony glances up from his expensive looking phone to raise a brow at the Director.

'It would appear so.' Tony answers with the usual slow, arrogant drawl that he saves deliberately for Fury.

'Good,' snaps Fury. 'Then do you want to tell me why you can't manage to relay what is on the teleprompter,' he gestures to the machine behind them, 'to the viewers?'

Tony blinks. 'I _did_ relay what was on the teleprompter; I just added a bit of Stark style to it.'

Fury gives an impatient sigh. 'Less style next time, or I'll take you off.'

'Sure you will, Nicky.' Tony slips his phone into the pocket of his dress pants as he makes his way past Fury, stopping at the other man's side to pat condescendingly at his shoulder. 'Sure you will.'

 

 

'Did you hear the rumor?'

'Always the gossip, aren't you Barton?'

Clint Barton scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. 'I'm a sportscaster, Tony, _not_ a gossip.'

'Sportscaster who moonlights as a gossip, then,' muses Tony, not looking up from his Starkpad. He's sitting in Natasha's dressing room, legs crossed easily with the pad perched on her make-up counter. Natasha herself is finishing up the night's show along with Rogers, so Tony has about two minutes before she comes in and kicks him out.

'Whatever, have you heard the rumor or not?' Clint asks tiredly.

Tony rolls his eyes. 'I've heard _all_ the rumors.'

'Strange, for a stock reporter,' says Clint. 'Moonlighting as paparazzi now are we?' He leans a hip against the dressing table and picks idly at the things on the counter.

'Natasha will kill you for touching her stuff,' Tony tells him without looking up. He misses the way Clint's lips twitch as the other man answers, 'I doubt it.' After tapping at his screen for a few moments, Tony finally glances up. 'What rumor, Clint? The one where Fury's underwear has pink frills or the one where the youngest Odinson is supposed to be making a big return from the land of tea and biscuits?'

Clint snorts. 'Why am I not surprised. How'd you hear about it?'

Tony gives him a condescending look. The two of them say the same word at the same time. 'Darcy.'

'For an intern she's pretty on to it,' admits Clint, running a hand through his short hair. 'Phil's got his work cut out for him with that one. Where did Phil even find her?'

'He didn't, Jane did.' Tony shuts down the pad and slips it into its case before standing. 'How _Jane_ found her, I don't know. Trying to wring something from that woman that doesn't have to do with meteorology or astro-physics is beyond me.' He glances at Clint with a sly smile. 'Are you going to walk me out of the building, sweetheart?'

Clint looks mildly surprised. 'You're leaving?'

Tony raises a brow. 'Shouldn't I be?'

'Drinks tonight down at Shield; thought you'd be in.'

Tony makes a sound in his throat. He's never one to pass up an opportunity for a drink, especially when they're all heading down to Shield, the corner bar that the station crew have slowly taken over as the years have passed. He glances at the watch on his wrist. He could spare a few hours.

'Who's going?' he asks, ignoring Clint's slowly forming grin.

'The usual gang. Jane's bringing Darcy, Phil might show up for a while, and Bucky said he'd call in on his way home from location.'

'Why not?' asks Tony with a sure, smug smile, 'what's a few drinks?'

 

 

 _That_ , thinks Tony as he takes what could possible be his fifth dose of Advil that day, _is what a few drinks is_. A pounding hangover that lasts all the way into the next evening. Whoever let him drink that much should be _fired_. The last thing he remembers is Jane trying to convince them all to go to the dingy karaoke bar down town. Whether or not they got there is another thing.

'Nice cover of Shoot to Thrill you did last night, Tony.'

Tony winces as Natasha drops into step on his way to the studio. So they did make it to the karaoke bar then. 'Thanks,' he mutters dully. Loud noises suck.

'Not too bright for you, is it?' Natasha reaches up and slips the sunglasses from his face before he can even protest. The studio lights accost him and he answers with a curt _'fuck'_ before snatching them back from her. 'I'm sure you're used to this by now; we're on in five.' Natasha smiles, small and self-satisfied as she gives him a patronizing little pat on the chest before heading off to her dressing room. Tony watches her go, red curls bouncing around her shoulders, curved behind looking particularly nice in a fitted black pencil skirt.

'Hungover; yet you still have time to ogle.'

'I was not ogling,' says Tony defensively in response to the amused statement. 'How rude, Bruce.'

Bruce just laughs softly. 'If you can keep your eyes on Nat, then maybe you could keep them on what I've written, this time?'

Tony scowls. 'Fury still having a conniption over last night's improv, is he?' A girl comes over brandishing a makeup brush and Tony waves her away, stepping behind Bruce in an attempt to dissuade her. The girl mutters something under her breath but leaves him be. 

'You know he hates it when you don't read from the prompters.' Bruce sounds a little stern, and Tony knows he should just read the material that they give him but really, when has he ever done what he's told? Besides, he has JARVIS running a constant stock update to his phone; he has information the writers don't have just seconds before they go live. It's only fair to add it in; it's not his fault if he adds it in with a little bit of extra flare and all that.

'I don't think I've got it in me to be too snarky today,' Tony admits, stopping to check his teeth in a reflective panel in the studio. 'Where's that intern? Do you think she could get me some water?'

'I'm not your personal slave, Stark!' Darcy sings into his ear. Tony winces and jerks away from the sound ringing through his ear drums. He scowls down at the perky brunette, though her smug smile suggests she has no regrets for her behavior. 'You kicked ass last night!' she says with a grin. 'Rich, handsome, _and_ you can sing. Who'd have thought?'

'You know what I'm thinking?' Tony says as he glances sidelong at her. 'Where's my water?'

Darcy rolls her eyes. 'Call a runner, Mr. Stark.' She salutes Bruce before heading off in the opposite direction.

'I like her,' says Bruce fondly.

Tony scoffs. 'You would.' Turning his head, Tony lets out a long sigh as he catches sight og Director. 'The bane of my existence, fucking Fury.'

Bruce glances up to see Fury gesturing violently to the screen Tony is supposed to be standing in front of as Phil, their floor manager, counts down to one, and Maria clicks on the main camera. Tony whispers, 'shoot me now,' to Bruce, as he moves to take his place and Natasha begins.

'Good evening New York, I'm Natasha Romanov and welcome to the six o'clock news on NBC, Channel Six, New York.' Natasha, as poised as ever behind the main news desk delivers the routine line flawlessly. 'First, a father stopping for gas watches as a carjacker drives off with his three year old inside, we're live with an update of the frantic search.'

To her right, Steve Rogers, delivers the next line. 'Also new we've got some amazing surveillance of a New York senior jumping into action and pulling the trigger on two armed robbers inside his home.' Steve says it with such honesty and wide-eyed surprise that Tony can't help but roll his eyes. For being half the face of the six o'clock news, Steve constantly looks like each piece of news he delivers is actual news to him. Half his statements sound like questions, and Tony had wondered why everyone was enamored with the guy for some time. Turns out Steve's innocence is a big pull for the viewers; along with his toned physique and his general good old American attitude.

The cameras switch to where Thor Odinson, the golden boy of NBC, is smiling charmingly in front of his blue screen. Thor Odinson; the eldest son of Odin himself, (Tony doesn't get the name thing either; apparently it's some old Nordic tradition that never went out with the Ark, and Thor was the unlucky sap that got stuck with it). Anyway, Thor's dad is the current head of NBC, and Thor (in all his muscled and blonde glory, as if he doesn't need any more help being attractive) is particularly well known in both the news world and the public.

'A chance it seems to dry out the latest rain spell,' Thor's rich, deep voice carries easily. 'A look at our hot and hazy forecast.'

Tony relaxes into camera mode with ease, a smile working its way onto his face as he stares straight ahead, eyes fixes on the teleprompter beside his camera. 'It seems we're running on a high this week, the US dollar begins to rise after its disappointing plummet last month, and it looks like shareholders will be making toasts if the current market stays at its impressive height. Also, a look into Oscorp's dropping funds; it seems like it's up to Doctor Connors to make or break the company's latest endeavors. Stay tuned for all this and more.'

Tony smiles winningly at the camera until Phil flicks back to Natasha and Steve. Tony drops the smile as they continue their spiel and waves a runner over.

'Get me some water, would you?' he mutters to the young woman, and she nods and scampers off behind the cameras.

Tony looks over to Thor, where the blonde is having his tie straightened by one of the assistants. _Thor the Thunder God,_ Tony muses silently, _I wonder what your brother's like?_ Thor had earned the nickname first due to plain teasing, having a family following the old Nordic traits and religions wasn't hard not to take a jab at, but Thor had a knack for predicting storms, and he'd never been wrong before.

Tony wonders what the youngest Odinson will be like. He assumes another tall, blonde, shit-brick built guy with a smile probably as jovial as Thor's. From what he remembers, though, the youngest son had left home some five years ago to pursue a career in England. Why there, Tony has no idea, that shit is cold and wet and nasty. No thanks.

He tunes in briefly to hear Clint talking about some guy kicking a ball around a field. Clint sounds as enthused as ever; which is to mean, not. It's not a secret that Clint hates his job as sportscaster, Tony's surprised the viewers can tolerate his flat tone and his unimpressed expression, but it would seem it's all part of the charm that is the NBC six o'clock news. There was, however, that one time during the Olympics that Clint's enthusiasm was almost at the level a crack-head might be at when given a new hit. Turns out archery is practically the only sport that Clint is even remotely interested in, and Tony always wonders if Fury knew that before he gave Clint the okay.

The girl returns with his water and he takes it from her with a muted thanks, pouring the contents of the glass down his throat in a hasty flick of his wrist. He hands her the glass back and gets into place as the camera pans back to him.

He follows the teleprompter down to the last full stop, not bothering to change anything or be deliberately annoying. It's not until he starts nearing the end of his section regarding Oscorp that he can't help himself.

'Doctor Connor's work on the revolutionary regeneration serum designed to help re-grow limbs and human tissue is an ambitious idea, sure,' Tony can see Fury standing up from his chair, looking particularly irate. 'But Oscorp gave Connors a five year deadline and a twenty percent cut limit. If I'm not making myself clear; that time is almost up, and Oscorp is running at a loss. For anybody backing this particular program?' Tony makes a cut throat expression. 'I'd consider cutting my _own_ losses.'

Fury is almost jumping up and down in his anger as Tony smiles beatifically at the camera. 'That's all from tonight, Stark out.' He tosses the camera a lazy salute to match his smile, and the cameras are now focused on Thor, meaning his time is over.

Fury is on him like flies on horse shit.

'What the fuck was that?!' he spits at Tony, who brushes past the Director and heads for the dressing rooms. 'You can't do that Stark! We're going to get fucking more than a warning; especially this time. I swear to Christ, one more _fucking_ time Stark and you're _off_.'

'We all know you're not going to fire me.' Stark says glibly. 'I'm the charm of this whole thing. Viewers love me.'

'You don't _need_ to be here, Stark,' says Fury quietly, threateningly. ' _We_ don't need _you_.' Tony stops walking but he doesn't turn to look at the Director. 'You can't keep pulling that shit. You're not allowed to sway the viewers and you certainly aren't allowed to throw corporations under the bus like that. Connors' work could be revolutionary, and whatever chance he had of succeeding you could have dashed by warning funders to pull out. It'll be on your head if he fails when he could have triumphed, Stark, and think of all the people he could have helped. You've fucked up big time; and it may very well be your last.'

Fury gives him one last scathing look before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the studio. Tony gathers up his things in a flurry of anger and annoyance before striding out the door, almost bowling someone over on his way down the hall.

'Jesus, look where you're going,' he snaps at the man as he picks up his fallen Starkpad.

'I believe it was _you_ who was not looking where you were going, not I.' The rich, vaguely accented tone is lined with condecension and irritation. 

Tony jerks his head up with a scowl. 'Who the hell are you?' he spits by way of retaliation, because nobody speaks to him like that (except Fury; and maybe Natasha. But Fury is a prick and Natasha is a flawless badass, so they're tentative exceptions.)

The stranger looks taken aback. It's an expression that doesn't suit his otherwise well-featured face. Tony isn't stupid enough to not recognize an attractive person no matter what the situation. He narrows his eyes, trying to place the man. New intern? Visitor? Slicked back black hair, a little long, pale skin, sharp green eyes... Doesn't look like anybody he recognizes.

'I would ask the same; yet I've been subjected to seeing your _face_ ,' the man practically spits the word, 'on the television for the past four days.'

'How lucky for you,' drawls Tony, 'now you get to see me in person. Try not to swoon.' He shoves past the guy with no politeness, ignoring the angry curses sent his way as he jabs at the 'down' button of the elevators.

 

 

He's halfway home, reclining in the back seat of his chaffeur-driven vehicle when his phone rings. He looks at the ID before answering, and even then it's almost reluctant.

'Pepper,' he says by way of greeting, warmth creeping into his tone that he can't help. 'What's up?'

The woman on the other end of the line gives a small sigh. 'I know this is terribly short notice, but you're needed over in California.'

Tony exhales heavily. Pepper Potts, the bearer of bad news. Not really, of course. Pepper is the one that constantly saves his ass, along with the company that he almost let plummet and burn once upon a time.

'You know I've got work -'

'Tony, _this_ is your work, too,' and there's tension in her voice and a catch and he knows, he _knows_ she wouldn't be calling if it wasn't absolutely necessary. She does her absolute best as CEO of Stark Industries to keep him from the nuances of the job. Normally he just signs some stuff, does some press work, sits in on a couple of meetings every other month or so; the usual save-face work. She does his best to keep his life stress-free (not that he doesn't manage to give himself excess stress wherever possible, it seems to be a talent), and he knows that she bears the brunt of the company on her delicate shoulders. Pepper handles everything, _everything_ , and she only calls on him when it's dire. He knows all this. It doesn't mean he wants to do it.

'What time?' he asks tiredly, already starting up his Starkpad and looking into the company's recent business changes. 

'If we fly out tonight you should get back in time for the show. The meeting is in the morning just before midday -'

'Alright. Meet me at the penthouse in half an hour, I'll call ahead and have the jet ready.'

After a few more brief words he ends the call, tipping his head back and sighing heavily. 

Clint wasn't entirely wrong.

Stock Reporter by day, yes. See also: Owner of multi-billion dollar weapons-company-turned-clean-green-energy-provider by night.

 

 

Tony calls from California to let Fury know he's not going to make the show.

The meeting with Osaka-Inburu Corp. had taken longer than expected, and both he and Pepper were dead on their feet by the end of the day. Negotiations were made longer by lanugage barriers and cut-throat propositions; the team that greeted them from Osaka-Inburu were not playing around. Tony knows only a few minutes into the meeting that pepper wouldn't have been able to handle the situation by herself. Usually she can handle anything thrown at her, but when it comes to the actual technology behind the Arc Reactor energy no one can explain it better than Tony; no one can make that final call except for him.

Except now he's tired and irritable and he's running low on sleep. The next flight would see them back to New York at just after nine thirty that night; there was no way Tony would make the show. Fury swears himself black and blue before hanging up on him. Tony doesn't have the energy to get worked up about it. He naps briefly on the flight home, unable to sleep properly, while Pepper breathes deeply as she sleeps in the recliner beside him, strawberry-blonde hair splayed out over the headrest. He wakes up fully around half-six to flick on the television and switch to the Channel 6 news.

Steve is on the screen, and Tony is blinking sleep from his eyes and not paying much attention until the screen changes. Tony recognizes the backdrop; _his_ backdrop, and he also recognizes the man in front of it. It's the same dark-haired man from the hallway yesterday, the one with the sharp green eyes and the foul mouth. He's dressed in a sharp black suit with a green shirt and Tony feels his temper boiling. _Fuck_ how attractive the guy is; Fury can _not_ be serious about this.

Tony turns the volume up.

He watches with barely restrained anger as the man goes through a charming rendition of the stock reports, and Tony knows that he reads every word _precisely_ off of the teleprompter. Fuck him. _Fuck_ him and his cookie cutter routine. Who the fuck is this guy and who does he think he is? 

'- and that will be all from me, I am Loki Odinson filling in for Anthony Stark; have a good evening.'

It's halfway through Natasha talking about something to do with Beyonce and Jay-Z that Tony finally registers that his jaw has dropped somewhere to the floor. He shuts it with a clack of his teeth as he feels his stomach drop down to his toes.

Loki.

_Odinson._

Tony groans and sinks into his chair.

Well, _fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a note, i am not from new york nor am i from america, so i'm not entirely sure how broadcasting and journalism runs over there. i've done my best to work with my own knowledge of communications, so forgive any mistakes you see in regards to that. (feel free to let me know about them!) otherwise, enjoy :)

Tony strides into the station the next afternoon with nothing but confrontation on his mind. Loki Odinson. Of all the people... and to think he'd treated the guy like a piece of shit in the hallway. Fury is surely going to rip him a new one. Tony, however, is just as pissed at having his slot handed over to somebody due to a _name_. Odinson or not, what qualifications does Loki possess that make him an appropriate candidate for this kind of job?

'Tony, hi!' Tony glances up as Steve nears him, smile bright and blonde hair perfectly styled. 'How was California?'

'Thrilling,' replies Tony stonily. 'Nice to know Fury found a replacement on such short notice.'

Steve either doesn't pick up the hostility in Tony's tone, or he chooses to ignore it. 'Loki did really well, you know. Thor vouched for him; Fury was ready to go into cardiac arrest before Thor offered up his brother as a solution.' Steve frowns. 'Loki wasn't too keen at first, but do you know the guy got his journalism degree from _Columbia_?' Steve says the word reverently, as if it's holy.

Tony scoffs. 'So? I graduated from MIT at fifteen.'

' _Columbia_ , Tony,' says Steve insistently.

Tony rolls his eyes when he realizes that this is now journalism and communications talk, and that unlike the others, he doesn't _actually_ have a degree in either of the aforementioned. Not that he believes he needs a degree to read off a teleprompter and find out who's bombing in the business world. If anybody's failed to notice so far; he's kind of a genius. The realization still leaves something sour curling in the pit of his gust, the constant reminder that Tony isn't really one of them. That's he's never really going to be on the inner circle.

'Whatever,' says Tony dismissively. 'Where's Fury?'

'In the control room with Maria.' Steve inhales sharply. 'Hey, did you hear that Peggy's covering the hostage situation live?'

'Yeap,' says Tony with feigned interest. 'Well, the situation, not about Peggy covering it.' He's navigating his way to the control room, eager to get a word or two in with Fury before that arrogant little usurper can take his place again. 

'She loves stuff like that; not that I'm saying she enjoys people being taken hostage -'

'I get it.' Tony says brusquely, saving both himself from hearing Steve's bombed attempt at re-iterating himself, and Steve from getting too tongue-tied. 'Hey, I'll see you soon, I've got to speak to Fury.' He waves Steve off and heads into the control room, finding Fury, Phil and Maria fiddling with different screens and panels.

'Stark,' says Phil, the first one to notice him. 'What can we do for you?'

'Want to explain why my slot was taken by the littlest emo?' Tony crosses his arms over his chest and waits expectantly.

'You weren't here, he was,' says Fury easily. 'Got a problem?'

'You think you're so funny.' Tony knows that Fury is practically lapping this shit up. He probably thinks this is Tony getting his karmic dues and _whoa_ , that pisses Tony off even more. 'I was out of town, I didn't make it, you needed a replacement; I _get_ it.' Tony raises his hands in a _meet-you-halfway_ gesture. 'I just want to make sure that I won't be replaced by Odinson if it happens again.'

Tony thinks that's a decent request. Fury obviously disagrees.

'Why not?' he asks, turning his back on Tony to focus his attention back onto the control panels. 'Loki has a rather impressive degree from Columbia -'

'Fucking Columbia.'

'What was that, Stark?'

'Nothing.' Tony smiles blithely.

Fury frowns. 'An impressive degree and far more experience in the field then even some of our own crew. Thor wasn't lying when he said his brother would be the man for the job.' Fury taints his tone with an impressed lilt. 'And he was.'

'Was. _One_ time. It's _my_ job. _My_ slot.' Tony can't reiterate it any more. He feels his temper reach boiling point at Fury's nonchalant response. 'Fuck you, Fury, this station is only so far ahead because of me. We're number one _because_ of me -'

Fury laughs meanly. 'Because everything is about you, isn't it Stark?'

'Yes,' Tony hisses angrily. ' _I_ am the one who practically _gave_ you the technology to better this pit-hole. You wouldn't be on top of half the stories you have without me. I have funded this station -'

'And so will someone else if you stop.' Fury's words are cold and when he turns to look at Tony, his eyes are just as cool. 'You are not the be all and end all of this station, Stark. We were in the top three before you and we'll be in the top three after you; NBC has enough power backing it that we could easily replace you if you become a problem. We _are_ that far advanced, the _world_ is that far advanced, Tony.' Fury's voice has become low, insistent. 'You of all people should know that.'

Tony knows his next move; knows it will knock Fury's feet out from under him.

'I'll drop the Reactor deal.'

Fury doesn't say anything, but Tony knows the clench of his jaw and the curl of his fingers into his palms means only one thing; defeat.

'Don't be stupid Stark; you've had Potts working on that deal for over a year. You'd have to tell Odin himself that you're backing out. Are you going to tell him why?' Fury's tone is condescending, but Tony knows he's got him cornered. Tony is known for his reckless and thoughtless decisions; it's practically on his calling card. Fury will believe it, Tony knows him well enough to know that.

He offers Fury a lazy shrug in reply. 'It's a simple request, Director. Don't let Odinson fill in for me again.'

Fury looks like he wants to punch Tony square in the jaw. 'Fine.' He spits the word venomously. 'Now get out and get ready.'

Tony smiles charmingly. 'Pleasure doing business with you, as always.' He turns on his heel, sweeping out the room with a pleased grin and challenging eyes.

 

 

Tony's sitting in hair and make-up, a young woman fixing his hair with an oversized can of spray, when a knock sounds at the door. Tony's sending Pepper a detailed and lengthy message regarding his confrontation with Fury and isn't particularly in the mood to be disturbed. He hears the door open and he flicks his eyes up to the mirror. Heat courses through his body as the anger from earlier makes itself known.

Loki Odinson himself is slipping into the room, lean and lithe with his slicked back hair and sharp eyes. 'Mr. Stark,' he says, voice just this side of restrained. 'May I have a word.' It's not a request, and Tony bristles immediately.

'I'm kind of busy,' he says with a sarcastic smile to the mirror, not bothering to turn around and grace Loki with his full attention. 'Another time, maybe?' Talk about digging himself into a bigger hole, but Tony just can't bring himself to be polite to the guy, no matter whose son he is.

'I don't have much spare time.' Loki fixes the the hair stylist with a glare. 'Leave.'

_Whoa_ , authority issues. Tony watches the stylist leave silently before he turns his focus back onto his email to Pepper. _Fuck_ Loki.

'I am aware that we did not start off on the correct footing.' Tony hates the slicked back hair, the tall stature, and now he hates the formal way the guy talks. He still doesn't look up.

'Shit happens.' He blithely flicks through his other emails.

'I had no intention of filling in for you when I arrived here. I was to meet Thor after he had finished work and was merely early. He was the one who suggested I take your place for the night; it was not I.' Loki's words are clipped and cool, and Tony thinks he hears a hint of sincerity in the smooth voice. He knows he's being petty and selfish about the whole thing; his dislike of Loki kicking off just because of the run-in in the halls the other day, and he thinks maybe he should let up slightly.

He raises his eyes from his emails and meets Loki's eyes in the mirror. Loki has his arms crossed over his chest, weight leaning more on one hip, and Tony wonders how tall the guy actually is. Maybe six foot one? Two?

'It's okay,' he says after a moment. It's not, really, but then again it wasn't Loki who jumped at the opportunity to cover the updates. Loki was just in an unfortunate place at the wrong time when Tony bumped in to him. Tony sighs. 'I'm not mad at you, if that's what you were thinking.'

Loki's lips twist into a sneer that takes Tony by surprise. 'Your lies are transparent.' The sneer is gone as quickly as it had appeared. 'Fear not, Stark, I have no desire to whisk your _marvelous_ job away from you.' The sarcasm is thick and heavy; Tony couldn't miss it if it were a baseball bat hitting him in the face. He feels himself bristling again.

'Good; because it's not up for auction.'

Loki's lips curl into a sharp, dangerous smile. 'Not yet, anyway.' He fixes Tony's eyes in the mirror with an even, challenging look. Tony doesn't respond, and Loki's smile becomes a little darker before he turns and leaves the room.

Son of a bitch.

 

 

It's been almost two weeks since their little... discussion in Tony's dressing room, and since then Loki has made it his sole purpose in life to charm his way through the entire studio. He has all the make up artists and hair-stylists eating out of the palm of his hand, with his pretty, pale skin and his stupidly long hair. After multiple and lengthy discussions with the writers, Loki has even progressed to editing some of their pieces, and if that doesn't piss Tony off then he doesn't know what does. Thor's little brother can do no wrong, as Thor constantly tells them all, retelling tales of Loki's accomplishments and achievements both here and in London.

The two of them are disgustingly chummy, all 'brother' this and 'brother' that, hands on shoulders and backs of necks that make Tony look twice because, y'know; that shit is _intimate_. Loki is extremely intelligent, and Tony has to reluctantly admit that he may possibly be on a level similar to his own, which makes things even worse. Tony likes to think his genius is unparalleled, especially when it comes to technology, but Loki had even fixed one of the monitors last week two minutes before air, and the technicians has been enamored by his skill.

Tony hates him. Detests him. _Loathes_ him. He's smarmy and sneaky and Tony does not miss the way he's absolutely charming to all of the crew except for Tony himself, choosing to almost ignore him completely rather than even toss him a smug look.

There's one thing that Loki does in regards to Tony directly. One thing.

And that's watch his broadcasting.

He stands on set, right next to Fury or Phil or Maria or whoever the fuck is manning the camera that day, and stares right at Tony with his shifty eyes. He doesn't say anything, doesn't move, just stares creepily. Tony had ignored him to start with; if the bastard wanted to be a creepy fuck then let him be, but slowly that appeal had worn off. Tony makes a deliberate point of messing up what's on the teleprompter, giving his own version of events, and every time he does, he smiles winningly in Loki's direction. Though the other man doesn't give away any signs of annoyance, Tony knows the mess-ups have to get to him, because Loki is so pristine and immaculate in everything he does.

Apart from that creepy little act, though, there's nothing.

Then Fury brings Loki on as a correspondent reporter and Tony sees red.

 

 

 

'We don't even _need_ another off-set reporter!' Tony hisses to Clint the day it's announced, the two men standing by the coffee machine in the green room. 'Fury's only giving him the job because of who he is!'

'Probably to piss you off, too.' Clint raises a brow. 'Let's be honest, you've made it abundantly clear that you dislike him.'

It's at that moment that Thor and Jane walk into the room.

'Hey guys.' Jane smiles warmly at them both as she bends down to get two cups from cupboard. 'How's it going?'

'Not bad,' says Clint, 'how's the weather?'

Jane straightens up with an unamused expression. 'Really, Clint, really? Is that one not getting just a little old?'

Clint offers a grin in response even as Thor laughs heartily. Jane rolls her eyes and sets about spooning sugar into the cups.

Thor offers a smile to Tony and Clint before focusing his attention on Jane. 'It seems a rain storm is to breach the outer coast -'

'- by Saturday?'

Tony and Clint share a look at the conversations topic... The _weather._ Jane responds enthusiastically to the topic, as predicted, and Thor visibly relaxes at the acceptance. Jane finishes making their coffee, still talking about westerly winds and directional pulls, and Thor waves at them over his shoulder as the two meteorologists leave the room.

'Do you think he's ever going to get around to asking her out on an actual date?' Clint muses as the pair of them stare after Jane and Thor. 'Or do you think they're just going to keep talking about the weather?'

'It's strange. They're both obviously interested but neither of them seem to know how about getting the point.' Tony shakes his head. 'Which is surprising, considering Thor isn't usually shy when it comes to women.'

'Maybe he likes Jane more than just a casual fling.' Clint waves a hand. 'Who knows. Anyway, about Loki -'

'I don't dislike him,' says Tony after a sip of coffee, easily picking up their lost conversation. 'I actively _despise_ him.'

'I don't despise him,' says Clint after a moment, 'but I certainly don't like him.'

'You don't?' It's practically music to Tony's ear. Somebody on his side! Somebody who doesn't like Loki. 'You, my friend, are like a fucking unicorn.' Tony claps Clint on the shoulder fondly. 'I thought he'd brainwashed everybody.'

Clint makes a face. 'He's nice enough, in a smarmy, sneaky way. Nat likes him, but I don't think she trusts him.'

'Why should we trust him?' says Tony sharply, jumping on the opportunity to badmouth Loki. 'He shows up out of nowhere, charms the pants off of all the suckers in the studio and then he gets hired.' Tony snaps his fingers. 'Just like that. What is there to trust?'

Clint adds more milk to his coffee and stirs it slowly. 'I don't know why you hate him so much, though.'

So not entirely on Tony's side, then. Tony wonders if he should admit to Clint his true thoughts. He decides to roll with it. 'I think he's after my job.' He waits for Clint's reaction, but the sportscaster's face gives nothing away, even when he offers a nonchalant shrug.

'Well, it wouldn't be too hard to get with the way you behave on camera.' Clint talks over Tony's vehement protests. 'You see? You're doing it again; it's not all about what you want, Tony.' Clint raises a hand when Tony's eyes narrow dangerously. 'I'm not saying that you're not funny, because you are. I think it's good to see the station with a bit of edge; but you piss off the writers -'

'I don't piss off Bruce.'

'Sometimes you piss off Bruce;especially now that you're fuckign with shit deliberately whenever Loki's around. You never read the material properly and you waltz in and out whenever you want; can you blame Fury for thinking there might be a better candidate for the job? Someone who reads the teleprompter and does what he's told?' Clint raises a hand palm forward to fend of Tony's fuming response. 'I'm just saying what you already know.' He starts backing out of the room. 'I've gotta go; but think about it, Tony.'

Tony watches Clint go with a petulant expression. 'Think about it,' he mumbles into his coffee mug bitterly. 'I'll think about putting my foot up your ass you traitor.'

 

 

The day after his conversation with Clint, Tony overhears his name being mentioned by someone in the green room as he's passing by. Ever the opportunist, Tony pauses outside the partially open door, tilting his head to hear better through the small gap.

'When did Stark start working for the station?' Tony would recognize that sly voice anywhere. Fucking Loki.

'A few years ago,' comes Steve easy reply. 'He started working for the station just before he developed the Arc Reactor technology.'

Loki makes a hum of acknowledgement. 'Yes, the famed Arc Reactor. How did Stark manage to invent something of such magnitude?' Steve doesn't answer for a moment and Loki continues. 'Especially one who was famed for the creation of weapons; what use does Stark have for clean energy?'

When Steve answers his tone is a lot cooler and far more wary than before. 'The Arc Reactor technology is far more advanced than anything we have on the market right now; he's doing the right thing by everybody with it.' Steve, ever the moral one, thinks Tony dryly.

'I wasn't saying he was making a wrong,' replies Loki smoothly. 'In fact, I quite agree. All I was saying is that perhaps his time would be better spent working continuously on a project of such extremes rather than being here.' There's a pause, but not enough for Steve to really form a coherent response before Loki starts up again. 'Why does a multi-billionaire need to read the six o'clock news?' The comment is made idly, as if Loki hasn't thought much about it, is just saying what comes to his mind, but Tony knows his type better. That was a carefully injected comment, something that Loki was working up to the whole way through the conversation.

It was a comment deigned to unhinge.

Tony _knows_ because that's the way _he_ plays these games.

They all know of Tony's wealth; and he's been asked before why he continues to work for the station, and he's never really given them a proper answer. Tony can tell by Steve's silence that Loki's little plan has worked; now that's all Steve is going to dwell on for God knows how long. He'll probably bring it up to someone else and then they'll start thinking about it.

Tony curls his hands into fists and resists the urge to throw the door open and beat Loki to a flattened little smear on the floor.

 

 

Tony's making his way to his screen when Loki falls into step beside him.

'What?' says Tony in what is practically a snarl. 'Aren't you supposed to be covering a story somewhere? Old lady's cat in a tree or something?'

'Not today,' says Loki, mild mannered. 'Why, enamored by my stories, Stark?'

' _That_ is almost laughable.' Tony glances at Loki out the corner of his eye, annoyed when he finds the other man watching him with a smug little smile. 'Was there something you actually wanted?'

'No,' replies Loki breezily. 'Goodbye, Stark.'

Tony hates his guts on an astronomical level.

 

 

'Why do you work at the station?'

Tony sighs. It's been three days; to be fair he's surprised Steve even managed to last that long. All the hesitant glances and the little frowns were starting to go to Tony's head. Frankly, he's almost glad Steve's finally getting it out of the way. They're in the green room; Tony's got JARVIS sending him the latest in stock reports (so far everything's almost toe-to-toe with the material the writer's have already given him, but you never know) and Steve's just come from the dressing rooms.

'Nice shirt,' says Tony by way of distraction as he finishes up what he's reading. It's not a lie, Steve's in a particularly nice blue button up shirt with a dark blue, almost black suit jacket. He puts his phone away and looks up. 'Why do I work at the station?'

Steve shifts uncomfortably. 'Yes.' He meets Tony's gaze firmly.

Tony leans back into the couch and crosses his legs. 'Being a multi-billionaire is fun and all, but as you know Pepper's my CEO and she runs almost everything.' Tony smiles easily. 'The station is a fun little sideline that gets my face on TV and breaks up the monotony that is my current work on the Arc Reactor technology.'

Steve opens his mouth and then shuts it. 'Oh,' he says after a moment.

Tony stands up, patting Steve consolingly on the shoulder. 'Feel free to relay that to Loki, next time he asks.'

The blush on Steve's face counts as an impressive victory in Tony's book, but it's tainted by the fact that the entire explanation he gave was almost a complete lie.

 

 

'I think you need to tone down your unnatural hate-on towards Loki.'

Tony's giving Bruce a lift home from the studio, but now he's starting to regret the offer. They'd been chatting idly about Tony's progress on the Arc Reactor; most people don't know about Bruce's genius, but Tony is one of the lucky few that Bruce has gotten close to over the past few years. That, and he's probably the only one to know the real reason as to why Bruce came to work for the studio, just like Bruce is probably the only person to know why Tony came to work there, too.

'Hey,' says Tony quickly, the thought occurring suddenly. 'If Loki asks why I work at the station; don't tell him.'

Bruce looks affronted. 'I hardly know him. Besides, I wouldn't do that.'

Tony feels mildly ashamed of himself. 'Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. He's just been asking around and it's got my back up. He's a sneaky fucker.'

'Is that why you hate him?' presses Bruce, looking at Tony over his glasses. 'Or is there something else?'

'He's after my job,' says Tony sourly. 'Don't try telling me he's not; I know he is. I have evidence.' He looks at Bruce imploringly. 'If you tell me that you're in love with him like the rest of the fucking station I swear to God...' he trails off, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. That's the last thing he needs; Bruce siding with Loki, and he hasn't forgotten what Clint said earlier, that Bruce is getting pissed off at him more often.

'I am not in love with Loki.' Bruce sounds almost amused. 'I didn't know the rest of the station was either, by the way.'

'Really?' drawls Tony disbelievingly. 'He's got them eating out of his hand like little trained mice.'

'Cute comparison,' quips Bruce. 'Well, I can assure you that I am not in love with Loki.' He frowns a little. 'In fact, the guy kind of seems.. _. shifty,_ all the time, if you know what I mean?'

Tony snorts. 'Yeah, I know what you mean.'

'You, however, have made your dislike for him perfectly clear, and to be honest with you it's making the rest of the station a bit antsy.' Bruce gives Tony a stern look when Tony's answering expression is one of disbelief and question. 'Seriously, Tony.'

'I know,' Tony groans out. 'Clint's told me as well. He just rubs me the wrong way _all_ the time.' He rubs at his eyes tiredly. 'He's targeted me, I swear, he just does little things. Have you seen him staring at me when I'm live?'

Bruce makes a sound in his throat. 'He watches Thor, too.'

Tony takes a deep breath when he realizes Bruce isn't going to be as much help as he thought.

'Don't feel like we're favoring him over you,' is what Bruce says next, and Tony knows it's supposed to be make him feel better but it doesn't, because is it really coming off that way? Does he really look as bad as a child needing constant attention? That's what it sounds like. God, he's an idiot sometimes. 'We're not,' Bruce continues, talking over Tony's sullen silence. 'Okay, Tony?'

Tony stares out the window. 'Yeah, okay.'

 

 

'- and there's this tropical wave hitting at around thirty five to forty west, though neither waves appear to be in any shape or form in a developmental type situation, and y'know, dust and sheer usually -'

Tony likes Jane, he really does, she's brilliant at what she does and no one can argue that, but damn, he loses her sometimes. He's no expert in astro-physics or meteorology like she is, but he knows the gist of what she's saying and it's not all together that interesting. Thor, on the other hand, lights up like a Christmas tree when she starts talking like that.

Not surprising considering they're both meteorologists and all.

They've finished for the night; most of them are picking up their belongings and heading off. Tony somehow managed to get cornered in the green room by Jane after he stopped by to grab a bottle of water on his way out. Now they're talking about rain storms or rainbows or whatever and he's lost track.

Tony regards Jane with a subtle eye as she speaks. She's pretty, with a bright smile and passion for her work, which makes her even more attractive. Tony totally knows why Thor likes her, though when either of them will really make a move towards the other that isn't to talk about the weather he doesn't know.

Just... the _weather?_

Tony doesn't get it.

'Are you coming down to Shield tonight?'

Tony is drawn from his thoughts by Jane's question, and it's not until he really blinks and looks at her that he notices Natasha is in the room also.

'What?' he says blankly.

Jane gestures to Natasha. 'We're all heading down to Shield; it's Friday night and all. Are you coming?'

Tony thinks of a nice, heavy glass full of scotch and almost salivates. 'Yes. Definitely yes.'

'Great,' says Jane, beaming. She looks back at Natasha. 'Are you driving?'

'No, Clint is.' Natasha smiles slyly. 'It constantly comes as a surprise every time we carpool that he gets the Friday turn.'

'You're an evil woman,' says Tony approvingly. 'That's hot.'

Natasha regards him coolly. 'I know.' She breaks the ruse with a smile. 'It's good to hear that Loki's coming -'

'What?' Tony thinks that for a genius, he should not be saying 'what' so many times in the span of five minutes. It's almost embarrassing.

'I said, it's good to hear that Loki's coming,' repeats Natasha. 'And if you hadn't of interrupted me I was going to ask if he knew where to go, or if you, Jane, were giving him a ride.'

'I'm taking Thor and him, as well as Darcy.' Jane rolls her eyes. 'Lucky me, I get to be sober driver.' She smiles a little sheepishly. 'To be fair, I don't really drink.'

Tony doesn't even care any more. He doesn't want to go. He's changed his mind. Fuck that. But he's trapped now, he can't back out with them knowing exactly why, and if that isn't embarrassing then what is? He notices Jane and Natasha sharing a look and thinks _fuck you_ , because now he knows he was trapped. God, when did the genius leave him?

'See you at Shield.' Natasha drops a slow, sly wink at him before leaving.

 

 

Half the crew are already letting loose when Tony arrives at the bar. Shield, though not much to look at from the outside, has become the local haunt for the employees of NBC Channel Six news over the past half a decade. Tony isn't sure who discovered it, though rumor is it was Director Fury himself, though Tony isn't sure if he believes that one. Either way, the sleek black leather of the couches and the monochromatic walls have become a regular fixture for them. Tony had originally been skeptical when they'd invited him to come down. Of course, it wasn't like any of them _knew_ , but he'd gone just to save face. Looking back at it now Tony think it was stupid, _stupid_ to risk it all just to look good in front of his new work colleagues, but hey. That's the kind of stupid shit he does.

Now, Shield is as familiar to him as the news station is.

He spots Natasha taking on Thor at the bar, shooting back what looks like to be tequila like pros. Their size difference is almost hilarious. Thor is a good six foot three/four in comparison to Natasha's five foot four, but if anybody can hold their liquor like Thor can, it's Natasha. Tony knows Clint can, too, and it's a rare occasion to see either of them really inebriated. Another sweep of the room puts Jane, Clint and Bruce in a booth, and Darcy has managed to corner Loki on the far side of the room with a somewhat of a mischievous glint to her eye. Tony raises a brow. Oh, so she's into him. He hadn't seen that one coming.

The bar is rather full tonight, and he's sure it will get busier as the night goes on. Most people know the news crew come here on a Friday; some people avoid the bar and some people come to see them. Tony's usually the one who's accosted most; more so for being Tony Stark of Stark Industries than Tony Stark of NBC news, but they've all had their fair share of attention. Natasha and Thor especially. Natasha usually fends men off with an iron fist.

A quick decision sees him making his way towards the booth. He slides in next to Bruce just as Steve, Maria and Phil come through the front door.

'Don't tell me Phil's letting loose?' murmurs Tony in amusement as he watches them head towards the bar. 'That'd be a first.'

'He's probably making sure we don't fuck up tonight,' says Clint with a laugh. 'Manager extraordinaire, is Phil.'

'Someone's bound to,' says Bruce with a nod in the direction of the bar. 'Look at Nat and Thor go.' True enough, the two of them are eyeing up another round of shots.

'I didn't know Darcy was into Tall, Dark and Depressing over there?' Tony indicates with a jerk of his head to where Darcy is slowly making more of a move. Loki looks neither uninterested nor interested, just responds to whatever she's saying smoothly while taking even sips of his drink.

'Really?' Jane seems surprised.

Tony raises a brow. 'Really. Contrary to popular belief, I don't _actually_ know everything that goes on in the station.'

'Not recently, anyway, been too focused on hating Loki.' Clint says under his breath, nudging Tony in the ribs with his elbow, a grin stretching his mouth. Jane and Bruce don't catch it over the din of the bar, but Tony does, and he sends Clint a glare in response.

'Hilarious.'

Clint leans back in the booth. 'Not wrong, either.'

 

 

it's almost midnight and they've all progressed into something a little messy. Tony's a little drunk, but that's cool, because he's got drivers for this kind of thing. Taxi cabs, even. It doesn't matter. Clint and Natasha left some time ago, much to Thor's displeasure, seeing as he was losing his drinking partner. That displeasure hadn't lasted long, however, because Loki had easily slipped into the role of drinking buddy. it also, Tony noticed, an easy escape from Darcy's increasing advances. The girl herself had slipped away some time ago with someone who was _not_ Loki.

_'Tony!'_

Tony startles when he realizes Jane is waving a hand in his face. The music is louder now, people dancing and getting wilder as the night progresses.

'Sorry!' he says loudly, craning his neck forward to hear her better. 'What's going on?'

Jane flushes a pretty red for a moment before she says. 'We're uhm- we're leaving, so.'

'No!'

Tony's eyes widen as Loki appears beside Jane, eyes a little unfocused.

'It's too early to go home,' he says loudly, shaking his head. His hair isn't slicked back any more, it falls around his pale face, and Tony watches as Loki raises one long-fingered hand to brush strands from his eyes. 'We have hardly started!'

Tony sees Jane glance at Thor, who's waiting by the door with a smile and then realizes, oh, _oh._

'I'll take you home later.'

The words are out of his mouth before he can really think it over. He quickly throws his reasoning into thirds. One: he's being a decent friend and letting Thor and Jane get it on without any interruptions. Cock-blocks aren't cool. Two: This will make it look like he doesn't have an 'unnatural hate-on' towards Loki, and thing might ease up in the workplace. Three: Loki's drunk right now, and he might get drunker still; what better way to loosen one's tongue? Tony can do some digging and the youngest Odinson might let loose some truths.

'Yes, Stark will take me home,' says Loki, in what Tony assumes is supposed to be a reassuring tone to Jane. Jane eyes them both skeptically, especially Tony, but he offers a charming smile and wink, ushering her in Thor's direction. She smiles, says thanks, and pushes through the crowd to where Thor is waiting. He waves a hand at Tony and Loki before they leave.

'Well finally,' says Tony with a roll of his eyes. 'It took them long enough.'

'What do you speak of?' Tony had half forgotten Loki was even standing next to him. He turns to face the other man and is surprised by how close Loki actually is. Loki doesn't seem fazed by the proximity, but Tony certainly is. He takes a half step back and turns it into a lean, attempting to catch the bartender's eye.

'Thor and Jane,' says Tony by way of response to Loki's question. 'We all know they've got the hots for one another; it seems they've finally decided to do something about it.'

'I did not know,' says Loki, and he slams his glass down on the bar top. 'It's empty.' He says this almost accusingly at Tony. 'Buy me another.' The haughty demand is suddenly softened by a slow, sure smile that works its way onto Loki's face. ' _If_ you don't mind.'

Tony fixes him with a look before giving the bartender his request, as well as Loki's. When the drinks are handed over Loki takes his with lightening quick reflexes.

'My thanks,' he purrs in Tony's direction, then: 'If you'll excuse me.' He slips away into the crowd with a smirk.

_Huh,_ thinks Tony sourly, _not as drunk as he first thought._

Well that can easily be rectified.

 

 

'I have made a terrible mistake.'

Tony groans as he slams the door shut on Loki. It's two hours later and he's finally convinced Loki to just give it up and get in the stupid car. He's going to have to pay his driver double for the mere mission of having to listen to Loki's haughty demands and protests for a solid fifteen minutes. Tony jogs around to the other side of the car and gets in, preparing himself for some projectile vomiting.

He's met with silence, however. Loki is staring half-lidded out the window, wrinkled jacket strewn over his lap and the first few buttons of his white dress shirt undone. His long legs are spread in a wide V, and he seems utterly relaxed as if he's the one who owns the vehicle; not Tony. Tony catches a glance of sharp collarbones and smooth skin before the other man shifts, making Tony avert his gaze.

'The Odinson place,' he says to his driver before putting up the partition. When he looks back at Loki he's met by an intense stare. 'Can I help you?' Tony asks tiredly, leaning back in his seat and loosening his tie.

'Odinson,' slurs Loki, rolling his eyes. 'Odinson, Odinson, _Odinson_.'

'Glad to hear that you know your name.' Tony wonders why even volunteered for this in the first place. Right. _Interrogate._ Loose tongue. 'Why'd you come back from London?' No use beating around the bush.

Loki waves a dismissive hand. 'Who ever said that I chose to come back?'

Tony raises a brow at the bitter tone. ' _Did_ you choose to come back?'

'Of course not,' slurs Loki, turning to look at Tony as if he's stupid. His mouth curves into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 'It wouldn't do to have me outshine Thor, would it?'

Tony doesn't understand, and he says so.

Loki makes an annoyed sound. 'Are you even listening?' he grouses, pulling himself up as they go around a corner. He slides closer to Tony with the momentum. 'Would you want the son that isn't yours outdoing your own child?' Loki laughs bitterly. 'I would not.'

Tony's initial conclusion is that Odin is Thor's father but not Loki's which, okay, would explain the difference in their looks, but then Loki sighs as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders and says:

'Adopted into a family of status and standing; what could be more of a curse?'

_Oh_ , thinks Tony as strange feelings start to well in his gut. _Oh_. Pity and sympathy grapple for each other in his intestines as he stares at the dark haired man on the seat next to him. _Adopted._ Tony isn't adopted; he's an only child, but his parents died when he was young and he briefly considers sharing this with Loki, then thinks better of it. He opts to say nothing, which is surprising, considering he always has something to say about everything.

Loki, however, doesn't seem to care about a response; he seems happy just to talk _at_ Tony. 'Do you know what that is like, Stark?' The question is directed out the window, even though Loki uses Tony's name. 'To be forced into being the best all your life, but not to outshine your older brother?' This time when Loki says the word, there is no warmth, none of the chumminess that Tony has seen in the station over the past month or so. 'Not that that is any easy task,' spits Loki angrily, 'considering everything Thor does is practically perfect.'

_Wow,_ thinks Tony, _this guy has issues that no non-professional can solve alright._

'I don't want to be here.' The sad admittance has Tony leaning forward, looking to offer comfort, and that alone makes him stop with surprise. He's not the comforting type, and up until a few hours ago Loki was one of the people he hated most on the planet... but now? Tony doesn't know the protocol for this, he doesn't know how to be the emotionally stable support system. He's the mess, he's the one that gets drunk and fucked up, he's never been on the other side before.

Loki is still rambling, words like 'brother' and 'lies' and 'not good enough' constantly being repeated. Loki is still looking out the window as New York passes them by, and Tony lets him talk. Lets him say what he wants to say without offering any smart remark or judging comment; because that's all he can give this obviously damaged man.

Some time later, after Loki has gone silent and Tony presumes he is asleep, the car stops outside an impressive set of gates. Tony leans over, moving to place his hand on Loki's shoulder to shake him awake.

'You know,' says Loki suddenly, turning his head and fixing Tony in place with those sharp green eyes. 'You aren't what I was expecting.'

Tony swallows. 'No?'

Loki hums. 'No.' The line of his throat is long and pale, and Tony's eyes flicker up his jawline to his cut-glass cheekbones, to the lips slowly curving into a knowing smile. Tony snaps his eyes back up. Loki smiles wider. 'Your arrogance, perhaps, but not the rest.'

Tony stays very still as Loki slides up in the seat, pressing himself in close to Tony's personal space, until he can smell the whiskey on Loki's breath as it breathes out along his cheek. Loki is a warm presence in the back seat of the car, and Tony only vaguely registers that the slow heat burning in his stomach is arousal.

'Thank you for taking me home,' he says, slow and low and rich and Tony almost shuts his eyes. He's glad he doesn't, because he would have missed Loki's advance, missed the way the other man came in close to press their lips together. Tony freezes, eyes wide open as Loki kisses him softly but freely, mouth parting just enough to swipe his tongue quickly across the seam of Tony's sealed lips. What is he supposed to do? Loki is obviously drunk, maybe he's just a lot more drunk than Tony had thought?

It's only when he finds himself leaning further into that drunk kiss that Loki pulls back. Fumbling with the handle of the door, Loki finally gets it open before almost stumbling out, dragging his expensive jacket on the ground behind him. He pushes the door shut with more force than necessary, and then makes his way towards the gates, pausing briefly at a keypad before being let in.

Tony sighs and sits forward, tapping his knuckles on the partition to let the driver know he is good to move. The memory of Loki's mouth on his is fresh, and Tony notes that he's half hard in his pants. He shuts his eyes and leans back in his seat. The car pulls away from the curb and Tony exhales heavily, wondering what Monday will bring.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go again. as always, feel free to hit me up with anything that concerns you, otherwise enjoy.

Tony doesn't walk into work as surely as he would have liked come Monday afternoon. After a quick run through of all the possible outcomes regarding Loki's drunken advances on Friday, Tony's relatively sure that they were just that; drunken advances. Though he highly doubts Loki will offer him an apology the next time he sees him, Tony is selfish enough to hope that Loki will look at least a little embarrassed and/or flustered, which will make a nice change from his usual unflappable demeanour.

It's some time, however, until Tony actually catches a glimpse of Loki in the studio. Striding along easily next to Thor, Loki does not look flustered, nor embarrassed nor any other less-than-positive emotion that Tony had been wishing for. The guy is a good liar; but he should at least feel _some_ trepidation about coming to work. For all he knows Tony could have spread the rumour that Loki had thrown himself upon the stock reporter, or even sucked him off in the back of the car. Not that Tony would actually spread those rumours; pity from Loki's admittance or no, he's not actually that horrible. Well, he can be, if he wants to.

Tony makes a deliberate turn in his walk to his dressing room so that they cross paths.

'Thor, Loki,' he says warmly, offering them both an easy smile. 'How's things?'

'Well enough for a Monday,' replies Thor. There's a relaxed line to his shoulders and a lazy but bright smile that doesn't seem to leave his face. Tony raises a brow minutely; looks like _somebody_ got laid. Thor inclines his head. 'Yourself?'

'Brilliant,' chirps Tony, before turning his attention to Loki in a silent inquiry.

Loki meets his gaze with ease. 'No better or worse than any other Monday.' He is silent for a moment. 'Thor informs me that it was you who brought me home on Friday night.'

Tony's stomach does this weird flop. Does Loki not remember any of it? Was he really that wasted? Tony thinks back to the way Loki had opened up and talked about his life, the way he'd kissed him and yeah, okay, he was really that wasted.

So he doesn't remember. So Tony was the one that spent the weekend plagued by thoughts of that car-ride home?

'Yeap.' Tony drawls out the word, popping the 'p' annoyingly. 'You know me; always eager to help a friend in need.'

Loki raises his brows with amusement. 'I was unaware that our relationship had progressed so far.'

Thor elbows his brother tightly in the side; the movement supposed to be subtle though it doesn't turn out that way. Loki shoots Thor an angry glare out the corner of his eye but doesn't say anything. Tony resists making a quip like 'well, there's no going back after Friday!' or something similar, but decides that Thor might not take kindly to the idea that Tony has defiled his little brother. Loki probably won't find it funny, either.

That's also something else. Loki knows he's adopted, obviously, but after thinking it through over the weekend Tony is sure that Thor is unaware of the situation. Thor had been nothing but excited when he'd told them al at the station of Loki's return, and since Loki had started in at the studio it was all 'brother' this and 'brother' that and those creepy touches, and what is stranger now that Tony has been gifted with more information, is that Loki has never not returned them. After the way he spoke in the car, it's almost as if Loki resents Thor, or at least how Thor is apparently favoured over himself. The continued charade must be solely for Thor's sake; obviously Loki cares enough about his not-brother that he doesn't want to hurt him. Though Tony is sure that Loki being adopted would make no difference to Thor; he'd still look at Loki as his brother either way.

Loki obviously doesn't think so.

'No matter.' Loki's curt tone brings him back to the conversation at hand. 'In any case, Stark.' Tony waits patiently. 'Thank you.' The words look like they are given with ease, but Tony can see the tightness around Loki's jaw.

He decides to let it go. 'You're welcome.,' he says as graciously as he can manage. Loki lets out a huff and turns on his heel, stalking away in the opposite direction.

Thor huffs tiredly and shakes his head. 'Forgive him -'

'Don't worry about it.' Tony waves it off with a flap of his hand. 'Little brothers. I get it. Or, well, I don't,' he says when Thor gives him a quizzical glance. 'You know, only child and all, but - whatever. He's difficult sometimes.' Tony looks expectantly at Thor when the blonde seems fit to argue, but then Thor sighs and semi-rolls his eyes in agreement. 

 

 

From that moment the relationship that Tony shares with Loki becomes _somewhat_ easier, because they both decide that staying as far apart from each other is an ideal solution if there ever was one. It is a silent decision on both their parts, and the station seems to run smoother because of it. Tony is told more than once that his attitude has significantly improved over the past three weeks in regards to the youngest Odinson, not that he makes a big deal out of it, of course. Loki has stopped watching his broadcasts, no longer lurking by the cameras to stare at him as he gives the report. They both make a conscious effort to stay as far away from one another as they can when they're off set, and when they do run in to each other it's only to give a curt nod or the brief mutter of a name as they continue on.

Tony can't say he isn't happy with this outcome; this is what he wanted in the beginning, after all, but sometimes he can't help thinking about the way Loki had kissed him that Friday night, all sharp lines and drunk breath.

Sometimes he thinks about the way Loki had looked in the shadows of the back-seat, pale face illuminated by the rush of a street light they passed by. The way Loki's tongue had traced across his lips; the way he'd breathed warm, whiskey-sodden breath across Tony's cheek.

Tony tells himself he isn't disappointed that Loki doesn't remember anything at all; or perhaps has chosen to forget. Tony secretly hopes it's the latter, because he doesn't want to be the only one chasing old memories of drunken moments, thinking about them over and over and being kept awake at night because of it.

 

  
'Pepper. _Pepper_. You know you want to.'

'What I want to do and what I need to do are two entirely different things, Tony; the difference of which I don't believe you'll ever fully understand.'

Tony throws his head back against the desk-chair he's sitting in. Squeezing his eyes shut, he concedes to trying an alternative route.

'Who can put a price on Fury's face when he loses?' Tony opens his eyes and fixes her with a tempting look. 'Nothing like watching a man in anger clap at your victory - or all men by that point.'

'Appealing to my internal feminist monarch now, are we?' Pepper doesn't even look up from the folder she's perusing. Her eyes narrow at something she's reading and she stretches out with her right hand for a pen. She starts making notes, lips pursed in an annoyed line as she completely ignores the man opposite her.

Tony's never really liked being ignored. 'Pepper,' he says, and tries not to make it sound like a whine. 'We do this every year. I beg, you say no, I beg some more, and eventually you give in and end up having a great time.' He waits for her answer, but she's so involved in the scribbling of her notes that she doesn't even look up. Tony raises a brow. 'I got a call from that ABC reporter this morning. You know the one? Tall, blonde; the one I slept with last month? Says she's pregnant.'

Pepper's head snaps up so fast Tony thinks he hears a crack. ' _What_?' she says, voice low and even in a way that screams danger. It takes her all of two seconds before her face relaxes and her eyes narrow into a glare. 'You're not funny.'

Tony raises his hands, palms out, in the unmistakable gesture of peace. 'I wasn't trying to be. She really did call.'

Pepper's sharp inhale of breath is his tipping point.

'But only because she wanted me to take her to Quiz Night.' He tilts his head. 'No pregnancy talk - honest.'

Pepper stares at him flatly. 'Well, _that_ is a sure fire way to get me to go.'

'Sure it is, it means I only want to take you, Pep. You're my girl.' The warmth in his voice is genuine, and Pepper's tight expression softens at it. Tony smiles boyishly at her. 'Come on, you know we'll have fun.'

Pepper's lips curl into a soft, indulgent smile. 'Okay, I'll go. It's the twenty-third, right?' She reaches into a drawer and pulls out her phone, keying the date into her calendar when Tony nods in confirmation. Halfway through typing she looks up suspiciously. 'What's the theme this year?'

Tony almost laughs at her wariness. He can't blame her though, usually the Quiz Night consists of costume-only attire, with each team picking their own theme and team name to match. Pepper has been subjected to the 'Crazy Eighties', 'Pirates and Sailors', as well as 'Howdy Cowboys.' (The last one had been an unfortunate but hilarious idea.) Pepper is not a fan of dressing up, and this she tells Tony every year before she finally allows him to see her costumes. However, her nervousness and dislike of the situation makes no difference when it comes to the task at hand. Pepper sorts both hers and his outfits with the same efficiency she uses to run the company, and the two of them are easily in the top ten of the best dressed when it comes to the night; usually the winners.

Tony feels his face forming around a shit-eating grin. Pepper leans back in her chair and laughs bitterly.

'Oh God,' she says, pressing her face into her hands and peeking at him through her fingers. 'What is it?'

Tony waits the appropriate amount of time before saying, 'Heroes and Villains.'

Pepper's groan disbelieving laugh gives way to a groan. 'I take it back; I'm not going.'

'Yes, you are.' Tony is already pushing himself out of the chair and heading for the door. 'Now, do you want me to do the costumes this year -'

'No!' Pepper's horrified response only makes his grin grow wider as he steps out the door.

 

 

'Hero or villain, Stark?' Clint drops down opposite Tony and kicks his legs up onto the table. Tony had originally come into the green room to make some coffee and go over his material for the evening, but he'd soon given in to the childish yet amusing idea to send Pepper terribly inappropriate ideas for a superhero name. Her responses are all bordering along the lines of either 'that's disgusting, Tony' and 'shouldn't you be doing some work?', but Tony knows that she is finding this funny; how could she not? Well, either way, _he_ is.

'I'm too handsome to be a villain.' Tony sets his phone down on the table. 'You?'

Clint taps his nose with a smug smile. 'You'll see. You and Potts better watch out this year.'

Tony raises his brows with a look of, _'oh, really?'_

'Don't give me that face,' says Clint with a laugh. 'I'm serious. Nat and I are going to kick ass.'

That is another continuous riddle in the work place. Clint and Natasha. Whereas it's taken Thor and Jane almost two years of weather-talk before finally hitting it off, Natasha and Clint have been best friends for longer than even Tony is aware of. He knows they live together, but as far as he knows that's only in a friendly capacity. He's never seen them be even remotely affectionate; in work or out - not even drunk, wandering hands when one of them has had too much to drink on a Friday.

Another enigma in the newsroom.

'You think you're going to kick ass,' drawls Tony. 'But what you're really going to do is embarrass yourselves.' He smirks. 'Pepper can't be beaten and you know it.'

'That's cheating,' accuses Clint. 'You don't even attempt to help with your outfit; she does all the work and you reap the benefits!'

'That does sound like cheating.'

Both men turn their heads as Loki enters the room. He regards them both with a cool stare but there's a slight tug to his lips that could almost be a smile. If you squint.

'It is cheating,' says Clint, nodding in Tony's direction. 'He shows up with Pepper every year and they slaughter us for Best Dressed. She does all the hard work of course.' Clint grins wolfishly at Tony. 'Probably helps him get dressed, too.'

Tony laughs. 'And undressed considering I can't even see in a straight line by the end of the night.' His laughter fades and he mock-frowns. 'And excuse me, I offered to design them this year, but she wouldn't let me.'

Clint laughs. 'To be fair, I wouldn't either.' He points a finger across the table. 'You're still going down. Mark my words.' He looks back at Loki who has pulled a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and is leaning back against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle. 'What are you doing here, anyway? Isn't it your day off?'

Loki shrugs lazily. 'Director Fury wanted a word; I thought I would prolong my visit and drive Thor home after work.'

 _For someone who resents his brother_ , Tony muses silently, _he sure doesn't show it._

'What are you going as for Quiz Night?' Clint asks curiously.

Loki scowls. 'I find the notion of dressing up tedious and unnecessary.'

'Spoilsport,' mutters Tony into his coffee. Loki's eyes snap to him immediately, but Tony doesn't make any effort to look ashamed.

'It doesn't matter,' says Clint pompously. 'I'm going to show you all up anyway. Seriously, be _prepared_.'

'Okay, Scar. What would you even go as, anyway?' teases Tony. 'As much as it would be a thrill to see you in red underpants and leggings, I don't think you've got the build for Superman.'

Clint scowls. 'What about you, smart-ass; you going to put on a suit and call yourself Bruce Wayne?'

Tony waves a hand dismissively. 'Oh please, I'm already richer than Bruce Wayne, I could literally be a superhero in my own right.'

'God save us all,' deadpans Clint.

'I would be saving your ass,' snarks Tony, 'if I was a superhero.'

'But you're not,' retorts Clint with a grin, 'and for that I'm thankful.' The two of them share a look before laughing. 'What do you think Fury will go as?' Clint asks, amusement clear in his voice. 'Or Phil? Fucking Phil.'

'Catwoman,' says Tony earnestly. 'Phil would make a great catwoman.'

Tony is sure Clint's laugh can be heard throughout the entire station, but when he looks to where Loki had been standing, the man is gone. It doesn't matter though, Clint's words have sparked an idea that's slowly taking form and Tony can't shake it. He's already running materials through his head and contemplating construction effort and wow. Okay. 

He sends a message to Pepper. _Don't bother with my outfit this year. I've got it. Seriously. Will talk more about it later._

 

 

It's an unfortunate extra cup of coffee that has Tony making a last-minute bathroom trip before he heads home from the station. It's unfortunate timing that just as Tony pushes open the door and strides in, Loki is trying to walk out. The two collide, chests and shoulders and muted swear words and Tony takes a few steps back as quickly as he can.

 _'Look_ where you are going, Stark.' Loki's sneer is rather impressive, and he brushes a few bits of non-existent lint from the shoulder of his shirt before giving Tony one last disdainful glance and exiting the bathroom. Talk about attitude adjustment. One minute he's fine and then he's not.

'What,' mutters Tony to himself as he starts working on his pants, 'the fuck is his problem?'

 

 

Tony is used to Pepper staying one step behind him. This accounts for most things; she is the silent but impenetrable wall that he can rely on for anything and everything. She lets him make all the moves and watches closely, ready to intervene should trouble arise. She is acutely aware of everything that is said and everything that is going on, and her initial impressions of people are usually spot on. Pepper Potts, though no genius who graduated from MIT at fifteen, is a genius in her own right. She is an incredibly sharp and astute woman; and people never give her enough credit.

Tony knows all these things. He also knows that she gets sushi for lunch on a Monday - has it ordered in from a specific little sushi hut from a particular chef - and he knows that the first thing she does when she gets home from work is to take off her shoes. Tony can tell when she's getting seriously angry, because she breathes through her nose and her nostrils pinch, but that's the only thing that gives it away, her poker face is just that good.

He knows that she loves him.

He loves her too.

She is not _in_ love with him, and he is not _in_ love with her. There was, once, a long time ago, a period where they thought that they were - in love, that is. They're too smart for mistakes though; make them once and that's that, both of them learned a long time ago not to make the same mistake twice. The fact that they love one another remains indisputable; there is possibly no one on this planet that Tony loves more, that he trusts more, than Pepper Potts. She has stood by him through everything, through his darkest and his saddest times, and been there to pull him out the other side. He likes to think that in some way he's done the same for her, some times, at one point. He'll never know for sure if appointing her CEO was the best thing he could have done for her, or the worst. She says it's the best - the best for her, for him, for the company itself - but when Tony sees the tiredness in her eyes and the lag in her walk after a long day at the office he might be inclined to disagree.

All these things factor into something important to Tony; though whether or not Pepper would ever really appreciate it should he tell her outright he doesn't know.

Nights like Quiz Night? Why he presses her to go so relentlessly? It's not all for him. Sure, he likes to see everyone's faces when their team wins, and yes it gives him his kicks to be named Best Dressed, but it's not just that. Everybody knows that Pepper is the one behind it all. Pepper is the quiet force that gets their team to pull together. Pepper is the one that comes up with the answers they never know. Pepper is the one that leads them to victory. Pepper is the one who spends weeks making sure their costumes are flawless. Pepper is the reason they win Best Dressed. Pepper is the driving force behind Tony Stark and everybody knows it.

So Tony likes to push her forward.

He wants for her to come to Quiz Night because all eyes turn to them when they walk into the room, and it's not Tony they're looking at; but Pepper. Not because she's Tony partner, but because she is Pepper Potts, an impressive and beautiful force to be reckoned with.

Pepper doesn't put herself in the spotlight; so sometimes Tony has to push her.

'After you.' Tony bows extravagantly outside the inner entrance to the Hall where the event is being held. He drops a wink at her annoyed little frown and swings the door open.

'You're an ass,' Pepper hisses as she enters the room. Tony straightens up behind her and lets the door swing shut.

They're slightly late, as Tony always is to everything, so almost everybody has arrived and made use of the open bar. They're all reporters and journalists of some sort so of course they're nosy, and those that aren't follow the turn of heads out of sheer curiosity.

Tony can't blame them; Pepper's really outdone herself this year. Even with his own input to his outfit, Pepper has the attention of almost everybody in the room. The two of them together; Tony knows that no one else will come close to matching them.

They had talked more after he;d sent that message from the green room, and Pepper had come up with the base idea from which he built upon. Mechanical, invented, something that came in the form of belief. A hero that if Tony ever were one, you could believe it. The second part of his costume had come from something else she'd said while they were talking about the recent progress of the arc reactor. Pepper had made a sound in her throat as her fingers traces the schematics and the notes Tony had given her to look at and then said: 'It's becoming the heart of this company, the Arc Reactor technology.'

Tony doesn't believe much in supernatural abilities; so their combined idea had been just the opposite. He's dressed in a metallic silver suit, jacket and pants giving the idea of steel, and beneath his red dress shirt shines a circular blue light in the middle of his chest. Emerging from the left wrist of his jacket is a titanium red-and-gold glove, fitting half his forearm and moulding to his hand, the same blue glow showing in his palm. He is rich reds, royal golds and sharp silvers, expensive lines and fabrics and technology born of his own hand; he looks like a self-made hero, and it has ten times the effect of the some of the men in the room wearing spandex tights and face-masks.

As impressive as he is with the machinery he's created, he knows people are just struck by Pepper. Not just because of her outfit this year, but because it's so _not_ Pepper that even he had stared with wide eyes and slack jaws when she'd first walked out in it.

'The contrast is far more interesting,' she'd said as she'd brushed past him, her calm tone belying the tense line of shoulders that showed she was nervous. 'It's also almost a complete polar opposite to my natural self.'

Tony had looked at his own bright colors in suspicion.

'You,' she'd said, after picking up her purse and coming to stand in front of him. 'You're a good man, Tony.' She'd let her hand rest gently over the shining blue light on his chest.

Tony hadn't known what to say.

Now, he doesn't bother hiding a smirk as they make their way to the bar, his hand on the small of her back, a gentle and reassuring touch.

Pepper is the hottest villain in the room.

Everybody can see it.

The intriguing part of it is that there's no designed _theme_ to her costume; nothing that you could pick out. She's in tight black pants and high-heeled boots, with a top that comes up high around her neck; atop that is a blue-black feathered crop jacket that curves around her bust dangerously. Her hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail atop her head and her make up is all dark eyes and sharp cheekbones, pale lips and smooth skin. There's a fake knife strapped to her thigh and it's ridiculously hot.

'Don't tell me you're enjoying this,' drawls Tony when they're handed their drinks and perusing through the crowd. 'Miss, 'Don't-make-me-go-Tony!'' He gives her a teasing bump with her shoulder.

Pepper glances at him through her made-up eyes. 'You're enjoying this enough for both of us,' is what she replies with, but there's a teasing touch to her tone and a lift to her lips that betrays her amusement.

'Well fuck.' Clint appears in front of them, looking thoroughly put out. 'You look good. I hate you both.'

'I'm not going to lie,' says Tony with a certain degree of disbelief to his voice. 'But so do you.' He's not lying; Clint's in a sleeveless black and maroon fitted get-up, heavy black boots that look like they could crunch you, and he has a bow strung over his back and an arm guard wrapped around his forearm.

Clint smirks. 'Call me Hawk-Eye.' He leers at Pepper suggestively. 'And is it just me, or do you like you should be in some form of custody.'

'You should be in custody for your lame pick up lines,' snarks Tony, but he's highly amused.

'Come on,' says Clint once he's finished looking wounded. 'We've already got our table. Wait until you see Nat; she's in a _catsuit_.'

 _That,_ Tony thinks somewhat eagerly, _is something he definitely does want to see._

 

 

It is, Tony concedes, somewhat impressive. That is, what Thor and Loki have shown up as. Tony had briefly considered the fact they might, but he hadn't really expected them to actually do it. He pulls his phone out and does a quick image search and wow. Okay. Definitely living up to the name.

He puts his phone away as Pepper leans in to his ear. 'That's impressive,' she murmurs into his ear, her voice bordering on appreciative awe. Tony can only nod in agreement as he watches Thor and Loki make their way to the table.

 _Literally_ , Thor and Loki.

The two have come as their namesakes - Thor even has a red cape. It should look stupid - but their costumes are done with such finery and detail that it just looks really fucking good. Tony sees his title of Best Dressed slipping away from him the closer the two brothers get to the table. He knows that the muscle beneath Thor's outfit is all real; the guy is built, and Tony admits that if he were named/built like a Norse God then what better way to put those two things to use? Tony is more surprised about Loki - though almost identical to Thor in height, the youngest Odinson had more a tall and slim look going for him. In this particular get up he looks just as intimidating as his brother. Corded whip-like muscle that shows when he walks due to the fit of his costume. 

'Good evening!' Thor drops himself into the seat next to Natasha (who does look fantastic in her zipped-up bodysuit, gun strapped to her thigh, knives at her calves with her red hair free around her shoulders) while Loki slips into the seat beside him.

Tony's eyes flit appreciatively over the leather and metals of Loki's costume, and from the corner of his eye he can see Pepper leaning forward to do the same. Loki is all greens and blacks and golds, body silhouetted in the finery that somebody has obviously spent a great deal of time on.

Pepper's shoulder brushes his as she leans towards him. He tilts his head, putting his ear closer to her mouth. 'That's Loki, then.' There's a certain level of amusement clear in her tone though she isn't exactly posing a question and behind that is the cool business tone she uses when dealing with difficult clients.

'Yeap,' Tony mutters back. 'How'd you guess?'

Pepper lets out a little huff through her nose but doesn't answer. She pulls away, and Tony turns to look at her just as she leans forward and directs her eyes straight to Loki. 'Thor,' she says warmly, 'are you going to introduce me to your brother?'

Loki's focuses on Pepper before she's even finished speaking, and Tony doesn't like the cool look with which he's giving her a quick once over. Pepper doesn't seem to mind his behaviour, and if she does she'll tell Tony about it later, that he's certain of. For now he's intrigued to see how Loki handles this.

Thor's attention follows not long after Loki's, and he grins widely. 'Pepper,' he says in a warm greeting. 'I must say, as unexpected as your choice of outfit may be, it does not diminish your beauty. I would say it enhances it even more so.'

Pepper laughs delightedly. Tony resists rolling his eyes when Thor grins. The guy never has any problem with women - he's almost as smooth as Tony himself - but there's no lechery in Thor's tone, just genuine appraisal as he matches Pepper's fond smile.

'You seem to be living up to your namesake,' she says, approval evident in her tone, 'the both of you.' She turns one of her most devastating smiles on Loki, and Tony thinks there's no way Loki can be his rude self to Pepper, because no one can be given that smile and turn away from it unaffected.

'My thanks,' says Thor. 'It appears that I sometimes have worthwhile ideas; though Loki hardly agrees.' He gives his brother a sly grin, but Loki does not return it. Thor seems to sense his brother's unwillingness to join in the conversation. 'Pepper,' he says then, shifting somewhat uncomfortably in his seat, 'this is my brother, Loki. Loki, this is Pepper Potts, Tony Stark's partner.'

Loki's response is flat and practically uninterested. 'A pleasure,' he drawls, and though he smiles it isn't exactly a pleasant expression. Tony thinks that Loki could have given the Joker a run for his money with that smile. He makes no effort to take her hand and shake it. Tony automatically bristles, because no one is disrespectful to Pepper, it's just one of those things that make his temper rise. Though he is aware that Pepper doesn't need his help, Tony does narrow his eyes slightly as he stares at Loki, and he knows that the other man can feel his gaze across the table.

Beside him, Clint gives him a nudge with his elbow. Okay, so maybe he should tone the hate-stare down a bit.

'Loki,' says Pepper, smile still in place but in a tone that she uses for difficult business moguls. 'Tony's told me so much about you.'

Loki's stare becomes flatter, though there's a begrudging curiosity to his tone when he says: 'He has, has he?'

'Oh yes,' says Pepper evenly, picking up her wine and taking a small sip. 'Columbia _is_ impressive.' Loki doesn't seem to think so, judging from his expressionless reply of, _'oh?'_ as if he didn't know. ' _Oh_ yes,' replies Pepper, and Tony has to pick up his drink and take a decent swallow so he doesn't laugh. 'Though your work in London is what is truly intriguing. Your piece on Gender Views and Social Construction was very well done; clearly thought out and very eloquently put together.'

Loki's flat look slowly shifts into something a little wary. 'You know of my work?'

'Yes.' Pepper says with an easy nod. 'At one point I was traveling to London on a somewhat semi-regular basis due to our own line of work.' She gestures between herself and Tony. 'I was lucky enough to be in the area when your work was published.'

Tony doesn't say anything, but either she's become an incredibly skilled liar and just Googled him, or she actually does know of his work. If it's the truth, this is the first that Tony's heard of it. He’ll be asking her about that one later.

 

 

They slaughter the opposing teams.

Tony wonders if the others even made an effort to try and beat them, but, all things considered, they didn't have much of a chance. Not when Loki decided to have some input.He stayed silent and aloof for the first half of the game; choosing to attempt to drink himself stupid, but then they all faltered during the Myth & Legend category, and Loki had rolled his eyes and said, _'it's Zeus. Zeus was the God who took the fetus and sewed it into his own thigh.'_

Which okay, a little creepy, but from there on out he'd been - well, you couldn't precisely call it eager - more _cooperative_ when it came to the team work.

Now the teams have broken up to converse and drink and just have a good time, or for Tony, brag to everybody in the room about how his team won the game. He rubs it in Fury's face for a food few minutes before the Director just turns on his heel and stalks off in the opposite direction; an action made far more dramatic due to the black trench-coat he's wearing as part of his costume. (There's even an _eyepatch_ ; though Tony can't actually tell if the man is supposed to be a villain or a hero.) He revels in Darcy's whine about _'unfairness'_ and _'bunch of loaded cheats - give us Pepper and we'll see who wins!'_ Tony doesn't tell her that Loki's efforts contributed rather a lot to the overall outcome.

'Hey.' Tony sidles up to Pepper, offering her the fresh glass of wine he's procured from the bar.

'Thanks,' she says warmly, taking the glass from him. She gestures to Steve who she has just been talking to, a smile evident on her face. 'Mister America over here -'

'Captain,' cuts in Steve politely, a small blush running up his cheeks even though he's smiling teasingly. 'Phil said it was Captain America.'

Tony bites back a laugh as he looks over the American-colored get-up that Steve has on. 'Coulson designed your outfit?'

'Got a problem with that?' Coulson himself appears suddenly at Steve's side.

'Creepy, Phil.' Tony says with a hand over his chest. 'Creepy.'

'Don't have a heart attack,' deadpans Phil. 'Hate to see anything happen to my favourite pain in the ass.'

Tony mock-gasps. 'I'm your favourite?' He smiles devilishly. 'I knew it. Can't hide your feelings from me, Coulson.'

Coulson turns to Pepper. 'How do you stand him?'

Pepper smiles indulgently. 'With great effort.'

'Rude,' mutters Tony. 'I'll leave you all to it then. I know when I'm not wanted.' He gives a dramatic turn of his head and swirls on his heel, their good-natured laughs following him as he goes. He gives Pepper's arm a quick squeeze to let her know he won't be far, and then he meanders through the crowd some more, stopping to remind anybody that shoots him a glare that his team won.

After a few more drinks and a lengthy conversation with Peggy (whom he points in Steve's general direction because he's kind like that - plus Steve needs to get some and Tony knows Peggy has been eyeing up Steve for God knows how long), he drops his empty glass at the bar and makes his way to the bathroom. He leaves the main room and turns left, following the signs that direct him to the restroom, only to turn a corner and get a face full of leather.

'Jesus -' Tony doesn't even need to look properly. 'You know,' he says teasingly, 'we've got to stop meeting like this.'

Loki looks down at him disdainfully. 'Trust me, it is not by choice.'

'Ouch,' says Tony flatly. 'Hey, good going on the Quiz tonight. You and Pepper really killed -'

'Move, Stark.' Loki's voice is cold and there's a sharp glint in his eyes that Tony recognises instantly. Anger. Fury. Rage. Whoah. Who pissed in his drink? When Tony obviously hasn't moved in the two seconds Loki gives him, the other man makes a sound in his throat. 'I said _get out of my way.'_

Tony feels his own anger building up inside him. Weeks, weeks of Loki swanning in and fucking with his head and being an absolute asshole to him and Tony is sick of it. He made a mistake the first time they met and he tried to rectify it, but Loki has been nothing but difficult and downright rude every since, and okay, the guy got drunk and unloaded some pretty heavy things on Tony in the back of that car, but that's not an excuse for treating people in such a shitty manner.

'What the _fuck_ is your problem, Loki?' It's what he's been asking himself and what he's been wanting to ask Loki for over a month; the words feel rich rolling off of his tongue. Tony raises both brows when Loki doesn't answer. Not that he was supposed to. 'Seriously, what have I done to piss you off so much? Is it the beard; do you hate the beard?' Tony throws his hands up in surrender, 'because I don't know what crawled up your ass but whatever it is obviously got fucking _lodged_ up there and _died._ '

Loki's voice is flat and low when he asks, 'are you finished?'

Tony inhales sharply. 'No. It's one thing to be rude to me; but there's no need to be rude to your brother or Pepper or anybody else. You've got a serious fucking problem, has anybody ever told you that.'

'Numerous times.' Loki fixes Tony with a cold, hard stare. 'Now move, Stark, or _I_ will move _you_.'

Tony barks out a disbelieving laugh. 'I've tried to be nice, which believe it or not, is a Herculean effort on my behalf, so why don't you just meet me halfway and extend some fucking common courtesy once and a while? I thought we were okay this week but obviously -'

After getting used to being in control of almost everything for so long, Tony is absolutely blind-sided when Loki's hand curls into the fabric of his shirt and clutches it tight before he's shoved bodily up against the wall. Loki pins him with his body, cold hard lines pressed against him and Tony's breath comes in short bursts as he automatically attempts to raise a hand and punch Loki in the face. A quick shift on Loki's behalf and Tony's arm is pinned, too.

'Listen well, Stark. We obviously do not like each other, a fact which you have made abundantly clear tonight, so why don't you just _piss off_?'

Tony scowls. 'Heard a touch of that London accent come through.' He sucks in a breath and glares at Loki's hateful face. 'Must thrill Daddy when you talk like that.'

Loki lets out a strangled sound and wrenches himself away, mouth twisted venomously as he takes a shuddering breath. Tony takes that moment to straighten out his shirt as deliberately as he can without taking his eyes off of Loki.

'I'll make myself perfectly clear, Stark.' Loki walks forward slowly and threateningly, a finger pointed at the other man's chest. Tony is not one to back down from anything, and it isn't until their mouth's are practically a hair's breadth apart that Loki actually speaks again, and when he does the words are cold and filled with poison. 'Fuck. Off.'

He stares hatefully into Tony's eyes for a short moment before backing off, not looking at Tony as he turns the corner and disappears. 

 


End file.
